Face of Fear?
by Beaker Bait
Summary: Why is this man sitting there eating Fruit Loops in his Mickey Mouse boxers watching cartoons like a kid so feared?


Title: Face of Fear?

Summary: Why is this man sitting there eating Fruit Loops in his Mickey Mouse boxers watching cartoons like a kid so feared?

Spoilers: None

Pairing: Sheppard/Weir

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis is not mine. Only the story line and any made up characters that may appear in the story belong to me.

A/N: Wow has it really been well over a month since I posted anything? Time flies when RL is beating at you from every direction.  
Things are really hectic for me and there are probably a million other things I should be doing instead of writing this but when the  
muse strikes it strikes. Of course it had to strike at three in the morning so if things seem like they don't quite flow I apologize in  
advance.

Also a side note for those of you reading 'The adventure Continues' I've hit a massive road block on that story so it may be a while  
before I added to it, but I do plan to finish it. I just don't know when.

This started out light and fluffy then decided to take a sharp left towards the end, don't ask me why (ok you can if you want but I probably won't have an answer).

--

(Elizabeth's POV)

Cursing the white light that shone through my window I snuggled deeper into my covers not wanting to wake up just yet – I'd been up  
well past three in the morning working on reports and was currently paying for it. Rolling over I was surprised to find John's side of  
the bed empty – it was only on very rare occasions that he got out of bed before I did.

Knowing that any chances of getting back to sleep were well and truly gone now I forced myself from bed, glancing at the clock I saw  
that it was nearly noon and found myself curious as to why no one had tried to contact me over the radio. Then my sleep deprived mind  
remembered that it was Sunday, my day off every week – Both Carson and John had the whole city scared senseless about what would happen to them if anyone disturbed me on my one day of rest every week.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I made my way into the living room where I found John, eating a bowl of Fruit Loops dressed in nothing  
but a well worn pair of Mickey Mouse boxers, sprawled out on the couch watching an old Wile E. Coyote cartoon – he'd received a box set of Wile E. Coyote's greatest hits for his birthday after letting slip that he had a soft spot for Wile E. Coyote.

I'd never seen the pair of boxers he was wearing before; which was unusual considering we'd been living together for almost a year. Not  
that I'm complaining cartoon underwear sort of suits him, but I'll have to corner him about them later.

Having obviously heard me rousing John turned his attention away from the TV long enough to give me a quick smile before his  
attention was once again pulled back to the crazy antics of Wile E. Coyote. Playfully pushing his feet out of the way so I could sit on  
the couch I snuggled up next to him. "Been up long?"

"Nope." John crunched down on a bite of Fruit Loops, never tearing his eyes away from the TV, but I know better than to assume he's not giving me his full attention.

On screen, the roadrunner beeps and drops an anvil on the coyote's head. I can't help the grin that forms when I see the playful child  
like amusement that flashes through John's eyes. Ruffling a hand through what I like to call his _true_ bed head hair, not the 'I spend  
twenty minutes in front of the mirror every morning painstakingly styling my hair so that it looks like I just rolled out of bed' hair that every  
woman in the galaxy falls for – yours truly included, through I find his true bed head hair a hell of a lot sexier – I settled in for a  
lazy afternoon of cartoon watching.

"Ok now that, that would never happen." John gestured towards the TV with his spoon. On screen the coyote had just launched a boulder sky high, only to have it fall upon his very own head. "That cardioid arc when the boulder was launched at a direction angle of the  
vector…"

As he rambles on about the trigonometric impossibilities of a backfiring boulder – he's blessed with a gift for numbers, which he  
rarely displays so I let him have his moment, though why he insists on watching these cartoons if all he's going to do is tear apart the  
math I'll never know – it occurs to me to wonder why is it that this man strikes fear into the hearts of many? Why this man with his  
boyishly charming face, crooked grin and puppy dog eyes. Why is this man sitting here eating Fruit Loops in his Mickey Mouse boxers  
watching cartoons like a kid so feared?

A slight nudge to my shoulder brings me out of my thoughts. Looking up I saw John staring at me with a questioning look; he could  
obviously tell that something was weighing heavily on my mind, though we both knew he would never ask, instead waiting for me to  
speak first.

Shaking my head I leaned forward capturing his lips in a leisurely kiss. This wasn't the time for me to voice my questioning thoughts –  
if there ever will be a time. No today was a day for watching cartoons and eating Fruit Loops with the man I loved. Deepening the  
kiss slightly I distracted John long enough to snatch his cereal. Munching on my stolen bounty I settled back on the couch and smiled  
as John playfully glared at me before turning his attention back to the TV to watch as the roadrunner once again out smarted Wile E.  
Coyote.


End file.
